His Lake of Yore
by setsunari
Summary: They say the past can't be meddled with. But according to a girl who falls into Jack Frost's lake, that isn't totally true. /OC and Colonial Jackson.
1. Prologue

Hey guys! So I'm back from my hibernation, and I'm good as new to write fanfiction. I chose to write about Jack Frost, as you can see, and yes there will be an OC. I know, I know, not very original, but it's pretty fun writing about your own character! Gives you a very fuzzy feeling. I will not introduce her until the next chapter!

This is just a starting. I am introducing Jack Frost even though y'all know about him already, hah-hah.

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Some may have heard of a being known as Jack Frost. Of course, many may know him of a kindly old man, full of cheer and waiting for the winter to come in order to share his cold glory of the snow; others may know him as a horrible and mean spirit who casts terrifying blizzards to give humans a fright.

In fact, Jack Frost is similar to all of those different beliefs. But not many know of how he became to be.

Jack is, really, an ice elf. He is a spirit who protects the innocence and jolly goodness of the children that comes along during the winter, but also mischievous, in which many immature and known tactics are made by him. The nipping at your nose, for example, is the swift kiss he gives you, and the shiver that runs down your spine as soon as you first meet the cold air is his hug.

He was once a being like you, reader, and an innocent boy who was on the brink of early manhood. Medium chestnut-colored hair sat rather messily on his head, tufts of tangled yet soft tresses slightly standing and giving a voluminous feel. His eyes were like almonds and were a sweet, mesmerizing yet modest light chocolate, forever twinkling in the sunlight in which he usually basked in daily. A narrow, moderately heightened nose sat snugly in the center of his face, snow-bitten during the cold weathers. High, sophisticated cheekbones were as seen and pale thin lips were usually upturned with a youthful smirk. His height was rather above average; tall, slim legs finished his edgy touch and were usually bound with leather pants. And finally, his snow white skin. Pale as the snowflakes that fall during the coldest time of winter, he was known well around his village because of it.

You see, reader, he was rather handsome indeed; He was popular to the teenage girls in the community. Jackson had noticed that his looks reeled girls in, but he did not advance much on it. His parents were worried that he would not get a wife in time and make a family.

Jackson cared for his family deeply; he did not want to create a new one. He was not prone to change, nor did he ever.

And there was one day, sunny, cheery, non-provoking, nothing out of the ordinary. His father berated him for turning down the marriage proposal of the most beautiful girl that every man in town wanted to marry.

"Jackson Overland Frost! You have turned eighteen two months ago! Will you ever have any thought of settling down with a good wife and children?" The weary man said right after the blonde girl ran away, sobbing miserably.

Jackson locked his brown eyes with his father's, a heavy jade and filled with anger and exasperation. He clenched his fists and burst immaturely.

"Father, that girl is nothing but a delicate and empty flowerpot! I haven't even spoken ten sentences to her, and you expect me to marry her?! I have feelings too, father!" He spat, pounding at his own chest with a tight fist. He took a deep breath and grew calmer. "…Once I find a girl who I fall in love with, then, at that time in the future, I will marry."

Jackson ran his hand through his scalp and called to his sister to go ice-skating.

"…I've promised her to teach her how to ice-skate. We'll come back before sunset."

"Jackson! Today is a dangerous day to go skating; the sun might weaken the ice—"

"Believe in me, father, she'll be safe!" He yelled furiously, ushering his sister into the forest.

Reader, his sister was indeed safe. But sadly, he was not. A good thirty minutes had passed and the ice below the young girl cracked; her face was full of terror. Yet strangely, Jackson continued to beam at her and comfort her, telling her to stay still, that she would be alright, that her big brother was there for her.

"_Believe in me_," were his last words.

He pulled her out of the danger and instead put himself in the center of the cracked ice. It broke beneath him, and he plunged in the cold, cold water. He heard no more as silence surrounded him.

""""

He sputtered and coughed, gasping for breath as a supernatural force pushed him out of the newly formed sheet of ice covering the lake. His pale but bright blue eyes fluttered, and his white hair gleamed in the moonlight.

The moon began to speak to him. Not verbally, however, but the bright halo seemed to flicker, motioning words that can never be understood by humans.

"_Your name, young boy, is Jack Frost_."

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Chapter 1, coming right up. It might come tomorrow, next week, or even later. Note that I am a very lazy writer and I usually don't keep things up-to-date. I am very sorry!

(Ahem ahem, also, I am fowlique from Tumblr. Mind to drop by and say hello?)


	2. Chapter 1: The Starting

I really appreciate your guy's reviews! Thank you. It's the thing that drives me to break out of my writer's block. But anyways, here a relatively short chapter!

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Years whisked by for Jack Frost. He saw the changes of the world, how technology changed, and how the towns changed… Everything seemed too fast for him and he never seemed to get a tight grip on time.

Jack never felt to belong anywhere. Whenever he ordered the winds to bring him home, he never seemed to mean it.

Home? He laughed at the thought. Jack Frost never had a home. He was a loner who brought up blizzards and snow days for solely the entertainment of himself and the children around him.

"Remember to stay warm, or Jack Frost will come nipping at your nose!" The mothers would say to their children. It became as a false hope for the immortal boy, since he came to realize that it was just a saying.

Jack Frost was a practical myth that everyone would think as fake.

There would be days where he would see a reflection of himself through a window or some puddles laying around the street. Why did he have silver hair? Why did his eyes look so icy? Why did he leave snow wherever he went?

Jack talked to himself. He was lonely, and he hadn't had company or a buddy to have a simple conversation together in decades.

"Who _am_ I, Man in the Moon?" he yelled uselessly, cyan eyes pleading to the pure white moon above. "What am I supposed to do here? You only told me my name, and no more. I'm begging you, _please tell me_."

Silence. He never received even a single word from the moon.

Days, weeks, months, and years passed by Jack Frost and he still was confused, lost in his own abyss of seeming despair. 300 years already, he recalled, and Jack thought that the Man in the Moon might have forgotten about him.

And suddenly, right in the nick of time, the Guardians called for the immortal boy.

You, reader, most likely know the rest of the story. He unconsciously joins them, although refusing to. He, along with the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, Santa Clause, and the Easter Bunny, defeated the nightmare spirit by the name of Pitch.

Jack realized that he was a Guardian not just because of his power to control frost and snow, but because he had courageously saved his younger sister from death, and instead sacrificed himself to that danger.

And that is why Jack Frost is what he is now. The Man in the Moon, the wisest spirit in the realm, chose Jackson Overland Frost. Not _just_ because of his honorable death, but because of protecting his younger sister.

Jack was her true guardian, protector of her safety, hopes, memories, and dreams.

But that is not the end of the story. You see, every individual Guardian has a past. A past so secure that _no one_, not even the most _powerful_ spirit can barge into.

But as everyone says, even the strongest has a weakness.

Just because of that one weakness of the past, Jack Frost will accidentally share his past with a particular someone; a rather ordinary someone who never had a second thought on Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, or even Jack Frost.

'''

Caliber sat at the back seat of the old mini-van. Her chin was propped on her closed palm and her brown eyes darted past the trees whizzing past by. Her mother was steering the car, concentrating on driving on the dangerously iced road.

"Are we there yet?" the adolescent moaned for the umpteenth time. A moment of silence dragged past until her mother spoke up.

"Cal, I just told you a few minutes ago!" the woman replied irritatingly, squinting her eyes through the heavy snow fall. "Now why don't you keep reading that book you've been interested in for the past few days?"

The girl let out a defiant humph and crossed her arms. "I've finished it already."

Her mom ignored her remark.

Caliber sighed and gave up, slumping back into the car seat. Cheery Christmas music played from the car's radio, a bit of a static sound here and there. The soft hum of the engine lulled her and made her drowsy.

Moments later, a faded blue sign passed by her vision from the window and on it were marred white block words spelling out "Welcome to Burgess!" with a cheery figure of a scratched snowman, waving a mitted hand, cruelly mocking Caliber.

"I want to go back home, mom."

'''

Up high, very high above the white clouds was a boy.

An odd boy, anyone would think; Rather slim and tall, a worn-out royal blue sweater, brown tattered trousers, and notably barefoot.

He was calmly floating in mid-air, strange silver hair rustling in the soft breeze while strikingly blue eyes darted sharply at the distant continents below. His pale and delicately chapped lips were pursed together in concentration.

"Already made Japan have a bucket-load of snow, check," the boy started, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "China, more and more drizzles, check… Europe, well I already gave it some mist here and there. Guess that's enough, so another check…"

He averted his eyes to the western side of the US. The wind had been telling him not to make it snow there for the past two-hundred years, and had specifically pointed out California— His eyebrows cocked at the thought and tilted his head in question.

"Jeez. You can be _reeeaally _weird sometimes, huh Wind?"

The breeze slowly rose to a stronger gust of wind, as if berating the boy for what he had said. The boy burst out into a fit of boyish giggles, holding a hand to his mouth in a sarcastic way in order to silence himself. "Alright, alright…!" He cackled, breaking into a new account of laughter. "I get your _drift_, Wind. The humans won't get used to it and die from frostbite, yeah yeah. Well then, seems like I finally finished my job!"

He sighed triumphantly, took one last intake of his artwork down below him, and ordered the winds to bring him back home.

"I'm comin' back, Burgess!"

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So short, I know… I think I could have done a LOT better with this chapter, but I don't want to keep y'all waiting. Please review and tell me what you think of it!


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